


Pathos Venator

by Yani_Senpai



Series: Yuna Furusawa Series [1]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: CanonxOC, F/M, old ideas new writing, rewritten from deviantart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 00:00:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20266684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yani_Senpai/pseuds/Yani_Senpai
Summary: Yuna Furusawa is a young woman living in Ikebukuro and generally having a normal life aside from being entirely unable to feel anything akin to love. This with the combination of her Yakuza connections and her CIPA disorder is enough to draw Izaya to look to her for an entertaining couple of months. Something nags at him, however, and it's more confusing with every interaction.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 of the rewritten Durarara OC fic that was posted for the longest time on deviantart. YunaZaya was pretty popular back when I was originally writing it but I took it all down because my writing was shit back in the day. It's getting the full rewrite treatment. Some chapters are being taken down again for rewrite (second phase)

Yuna sighed, dropping her keys in the bowl at the door, shuffling off her shoes and stepping into her apartment. It was late, and just as her brother Ryoka called her, she shut her cell off and tossed it onto the couch. She didn’t feel like talking, not after that long shift at the bar. When he called her landline next, she shuddered, rubbing her temples and stepping over to it. 

“What is it?” She sighed. 

“I heard you got accosted at the bar.”

“Learn a new word?” She mumbled sarcastically, looking into the fridge, selecting a leftover plate of steak. 

“Stop. You know you can’t press those drunk guys too hard, they get pissed!”

“Ryoka--”

“Don’t make me pull you from the bar. Shiki can get you set up anywhere else in the city. Get you a safer job.”

“It’s three in the morning, can we talk about this later?” She sighed. 

“No. We can’t. This makes the fourth time you’ve tried to step into a fight and gotten into trouble because of it. You don’t have to be the center of chaos.” She imagined his frown on the other end of the line. “Not that you want to be, and I know that. But with your condition--”

“What, you think the rest of the staff is gonna let me bleed out right on the floor?”

“No, I just--”

“Ryoka, I’m an adult. Can you just let me handle things on my own?” She started to prepare to hang up on him. Once he got started, this wasn’t going to stop. 

“...Fine, sure.” He sighed. “If you need me, I’m--”

“I know.” She nodded. “Thank you.”

He paused, then his voice took a humorous tone. “You could show a little love, you know.” 

“Shut up.” She smiled. “I’ll talk to you later.”

The steak wasn’t great, and she wasn’t that hungry, so Yuna decided it’d probably be better to just go to bed. 

She awoke the next morning around ten to a ruckus in her living room, the likes of which were both the most annoying and most common occurrence in her life. She groaned, shuffling out of bed and into her clothes, a red tank top, some jeans and some teal arm warmers. Yuna opened her bedroom door to find Sora, a longtime friend and confidant, holding their very French friend Fiona by the cheeks against the wall. 

“Say it!” Sora giggled. 

“Never!!” Fiona bumbled, the noise barely understandable through Sora’s thumbs, now pulling her mouth open by the inside of her cheeks. Yuna mused that her behavior was...kinda gross. 

“You like him! Say it!”

“She likes him.” Yuna opened her mouth. “Can you guys please take this somewhere that isn’t outside my bedroom door?”

Mikona, who was frantically trying to make them stop by waving her arms behind them but saying nothing, sighed in relief. 

These girls were some of Yuna’s best friends through high school, and since graduation, they’d all continued to be around each other. Yuna, whose main defining trait was that she was psychologically unable to feel love and that the pain center in her brain didn’t work as it should, often considered herself lucky to be friends with such understanding and excitable people. That said, the fact that she worked until three in the morning and they showed up at her house not more than seven hours later, was still exhausting, every time they did it. 

Yuna spent a lot of time with these girls. All of them slowly trying to unlock the mystery as to why she was unable to feel love, when every psychologist they’d talked to told her that despite what they originally posited, she did not show other psychopathic tendencies. Maybe she was trying the wrong gender, maybe she hadn’t met the right person, or maybe she was acting on some strange childhood trauma instinct. Whatever it was, she didn’t love her friends, her family, or anyone who she’d tried to date. 

Yuna, however, had tried her best to feel those things toward them, just without any fruition. She didn’t care if things happened to them--when her brother died, she showed the smallest amount of grief. She’d never felt close enough to someone to let them kiss her. She’d never gotten butterflies when someone held her hand. She didn’t feel like she had to talk to them to get through her years. In fact, Yuna was quite sure she could go years without talking to a single human and be totally okay with that. 

Obviously, to three teenage girls, the idea of their friend not being able to love someone lead them to setting up shop in her life, trying to find her somewhere to point her affection. They would tease her all the while, and the notion made Yuna feel wanted for the first time in her life. That was the beginning of their friendship. Yuna hoped that over time, the same thing that had cut her from everyone else wouldn’t be the end of that, too.

  
  


They decided to go out today, walk the streets. Yuna was tired, exhausted, actually, after having to pull a cleaver on the man in her bar that decided it was a good idea to grab at a waitress, all while her boss yelled at her, “You’re not a bouncer! Stop pulling kitchen knives on people!” 

Sora and Fiona smiled and laughed in front of them, arguing about some boy that Fiona had met. Mikona nudged Yuna, and she looked over, pulling her backpack tighter. “You okay? Seem distracted.”

“Tired.” She smiled gently. “I’m okay.”

“Do you wanna get something to eat? Might help.”

She shrugged. “Like what?”

“Maybe a crepe?”

“Oh, a crepe sounds amazing.” She sighed. “Let’s do it.”

“Crepes!” Sora cheered, joining in their conversation suddenly. “Sounds great! Let’s go, let’s go!” Her voice turned to singing, loud, boisterous, teetering on obnoxious.

Fiona fell behind as the rest of them started forward toward the nearest breakfast place. She yelled for them to wait for her, and Yuna did, but she ran right past her. She chuckled at the three girls, suddenly all excited about food. Still acted like teenagers sometimes. A storm brewed above them, and Yuna stopped to see if she’d packed an umbrella, just in time for someone to bump into her. Most would just keep walking, but this man stopped, turning to her. “Hello~!”

“Um...hello.” She blinked, then frowned at him, wondering what the hell he was doing wearing a fur lined jacket in the middle of June. She instinctively checked her pockets, and he smirked at her. “I didn’t pickpocket you.”

“Okay...” She tipped her head suspiciously. “Alright, I’m gonna go.” She stepped past him, making herself aware of him as he waited behind, then started tailing them. Like she wouldn’t notice he’d followed them into the crepe shop? Sat down at the booth two down from them? 

“You okay?” Sora tipped her head. “You look mad.”

Yuna didn’t take her eyes off of his shoes, nodding. “Fine. Let’s just eat and get out of here.”

She pouted, then nodded. Sora had been long aware that Yuna was into some more dangerous things than the rest of them--when Shiki of the Yakuza is your godfather, you didn’t really stay out of trouble--but this was more suspicious than she’d usually been. She was acting like they were in danger. “If you say so.” Always delighted and relaxed, Sora was more street smart than she usually let on. She’d had three run-ins with the city famous Shizuo Heiwajima and managed to talk him down each time.

The man waited until they were halfway into their meal before he approached them, standing at the edge of their table. Yuna looked up at him, frowning even deeper this time. “Can I help you?”

“Well, I was wondering why you stopped when I ran into you.” He chimed everything he said, like every word was a game.

“You’re the one who stopped.”

“Most people keep walking.” He sneered at her like he knew something she didn’t, and she wasn’t sure what it was, so maybe he did. “But you aren’t most people.”

“What do you mean?”

“Most people keep walking.” He repeated, shrugging. 

“Sorry, can you get to a point, please?” She raised an eyebrow at him, and the man shrugged in response. 

“I was wondering why you stopped.”

“I didn’t want you to make off with my wallet.” She shrugged. “So?”

“Why bother? Aren’t you in cahoots with Shiki of the Yakuza?”

All four of the girls looked up at him now, the suspicion Yuna had shown him showing clearly on all of their faces. “How do you--”

“Let me introduce myself. I’m Izaya Orihara--an information broker.”

“What do you want?” Her words were a warning, barely hanging on to the polite tone she’d been using. 

“I want you to answer my question.”

“If I know Shiki? I know him. I’m not involved with the Yakuza, though.”

“Ah, that’s not really what I’m interested in.” 

“So what is it?” She sighed, patience growing thin. 

“So you weren’t going to put a hit on me for trying to pickpocket you?”

“You said you weren’t pickpocketing me.”

He made a show of thinking. “Umm...no, you’re right. Not exactly. Just wanted to meet you is all. I heard Shiki talking about you.” He shrugged. “And now that I have, I can go. Nice to meet you, Yuna Furusawa.” He bowed, almost like it was a joke, and trotted out of the restaurant. 

“What was that? He knew your name!” Sora asked pointedly. 

“No clue, man.” Yuna shook her head, flipping out her phone and typing his name into a search engine. “Information broker.”

“I’m worried.” Mikona frowned. “If he’s an info broker, he probably already knows where you live, right?”

“You already have one stalker, don’t need another.” Fiona rolled her eyes. “Have you seen Niki lately?”

“Arasa?” she shrugged. “She’s not been around lately. Maybe she found another relationship to be weird over.”

“Yuna...” Sora sighed. “You don’t always make the best decisions when it comes to your safety. Maybe you should talk to Shiki about this.”

“And have him tell Ryoka to babysit me again? No thanks.” She shrugged. “The dude’s our age--how much danger could he really be?”

“Okay, maybe this is because you’re not exactly good at emotions, but you really need to figure out how to judge people’s intentions.” Fiona snapped. 

“I don’t think his intentions are good either. I just don’t think he’s gonna be able to do anything I can’t handle. I’ll be fine.” She frowned. “You guys worry too much.”

“Only ‘cuz we care.” Sora smiled. 

Yuna looked at her, processing the notion with her logical mind, nodding slowly. A pang of sadness came as she wished she could relate, and passed as the waitress delivered a caramel crepe.


	2. Chapter 2

Yuna had been at home for a couple days, enjoying her weekend, when her brother called her, sounding annoyed. “Sora called me.”

“Yeah?” She frowned, half ready to run across the hall to her apartment. “Why?”

“She said you were approached by some guy who knew you knew Shiki. Anyone we know?”

She’d told him. So much for keeping him from babysitting her. “No. No one I’ve ever really seen. He’s an info broker.”

“Weird. Should we keep it to ourselves?”

“I’d rather Shiki didn’t know about it. He’s gonna overreact. The fact that you aren’t is really surprising.”

“I’m gonna trust you on this.” He hung up on her. 

That was strange. Ryoka didn’t trust Yuna on _ anything. _He was always in her business. About ten minutes into her video game, he called back. “Nevermind. I’m not trusting you on this.” That was more normal. “Come over. Now.” 

“I’m fine--”

“Get over here.” He hung up, and Yuna groaned, putting on her boots and grabbing her bag. 

The walk to Ryoka’s house was long, since it was just outside of the city, so she grabbed a cab. A short haired blonde--Ryoka’s wife, Naomi--answered the door, and let her in. “You look mad.” She chuckled. 

“Your husband called me over because he thinks I can’t handle things myself.” She snapped, and Ryoka looked up from the kitchen table. 

“Don’t take it out on her. She realized who the guy was as soon as I mentioned it.” Ryoka frowned. 

“The guy found out my mom was drinking again and told me it was the easiest thing he’d ever done. Was pretty rude.” Naomi pouted. 

“So you know him? What else do you know about him?” Yuna sat down, irritation fading to bring about a different notion--curiosity. 

“He’s secretive, really.”

“Not someone to be friends with.” Ryoka frowned. “I don’t like him. Bad news. Steer clear.”

She frowned. “I doubt I’ll ever see him again, honestly. But if I do, what’s the issue with giving him a chance--”

“Yuna, if he hurts you--”

“Why shove off a chance to feel things that everyone else gets to?” Yuna frowned. 

“You--it’s okay to want that, but it doesn’t mean you should just get involved with anyone who approaches you.”

“Yeah, but it does mean I should consider anyone who might be interested in helping me.”

“Some people don’t get happy endings, Yuna!” Ryoka snapped. “You of all people should know that. You just do whatever you think will get results. You don’t care if it’ll break you in the process!” 

She shook her head. “Keep your voice down. Chill.”

“You are far too chill about this!”

She shook her head again, as if Ryoka didn’t see her do it the first time. “If he can help, I’m getting involved. If he can’t, then I don’t. End of story.” She stood. 

“Look, Yuna, I know you just want to be normal, to feel things like other people do--but that might not be in your blood. Please, just--understand that it’s not some curse to break. You ain’t lookin’ for a prince charming in every guy.”

A girlish embarrassment flared, and she stared daggers at her brother. “I’m not.”

“Then stop acting like it.” 

Naomi shifted, frowning. “Um...but...didn’t he say something when we were there...about how he loves all people? Or something like that? Maybe he’d be a good resource.”

“Naomi, stop.” Ryoka snapped, and she held her hands up, shrugging. 

“She has to find her own answers, Ryo.”

“She can find them elsewhere.” He snapped. 

Yuna shook her head. “I’m going.” 

“Yuna, please, just listen to me for once--we want what’s best for you--”

“I think it’s a good idea, Ryo.” Naomi looked at him. “He’s an info broker, it’s his whole job to use resources to find answers. No reason Yuna can’t just use him as a resource.”

“I don’t like the guy. He’ll play with her emotions until she thinks she’s finding what she needs--”

“I’m right here.” Yuna snapped. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not right here.”

“Fine. Do what you want. But don’t come crying to me when--”

“No problem. Maybe if you weren’t such an ass all the time, I’d be more likely to listen to you.” She didn’t slam the door, but she wanted to.

What the hell did loving every person mean? Surely it didn’t mean in the way that she was missing, right? Surely it just meant he was interested in them. Yuna shook her head. She’d have to look into him more if she was going to get any answers out of him. She went back home, going back to her game, mind on anything but what she was doing. 

As she pulled her jeans on, she realized that the man hadn’t taken her wallet, but he’d slipped a piece of paper in her pocket. She frowned, uncurling it and finding it had a phone number on it. He’d given her his number? Was this some elaborate pick up trick? She considered shortly if what Naomi had said meant he was just a gigantic manwhore, but shrugged and took a try at a call anyway. 

“Orihara, Ikebukuro's best info broker, how can I help you?”

“Is that how you answer the phone?” She laughed, despite herself. “It’s Yuna Furusawa. You left your phone number in my pocket.”

“I did.” 

“So what did you want?”

“Can you meet me tonight?”

“My lunch is at one AM. If you can meet me at the bar where I work then, sure.” She frowned. “I trust you can figure out where that is.”

“Already have.” He chuckled. “See you then.” He didn’t hang up the phone until he had already said “Hear that--” and Yuna found herself somewhere between impressed and annoyed at his brazen behavior. Slipping his number in her pocket, assuming she would call it, talking to someone about their phone call, planning to meet her at her workplace--she could already tell he was going to be exhausting. She exited her apartment, and Sora stood there, looking embarrassed. “Oh, you work tonight? I didn’t realize.”

“I do. Why?”

“I um...well I guess you’ll see me on a date, then.”

“You look pretty. Careful.” Yuna teased, and her friend blushed at her. 

“Well, this way we can walk together. Safer that way.” Yuna nodded, and they started down the stairs, stepping over a dead bird sitting at the doorstep. “Gross!” Sora squealed, and Yuna stared at it a moment, watching it’s last few breaths rattle out of it’s poor, bloody mouth.

“Sad.” She tipped her head. “Wonder what could have done that.”

Sora haunched, looking at it. “Looks like a cat got to it.”

“Karma foreshadowing?” Yuna shrugged.

“Don’t talk like that!” Sora groaned. The girls went on their way, but Yuna’s mind was still on the bird. Felt like the universe was trying to tell her something she didn’t want to hear. 

The bar was already sort of busy, even at ten pm, and Yuna shuffled into the back office, saying hi to her boss and glancing at what looked like a new employee. “She’s in training.” Touma, the owner of the bar, a quiet, gruff man, nodded to Yuna, who shrugged. 

“You doing okay?” She looked at the girl. 

“Yeah!! Um! I’m on food duty, not old enough to serve alcohol.”

“A cook. Nice to meet you.” Yuna smiled at her, but quickly had to be out at the bar. She’d not gotten the girl’s name, but like most people in this bar, she’d be gone within the week. Yuna was one of the very few longtime employees. That probably had something to do with Shiki, as well. Touma, her boss, was a man of very few words. She was pretty sure he was half deaf. Yuna went half the night without seeing Sora, but when she did, she realized her friend was on a date with a notorious debt collector in a barsuit. Yuna frowned, not necessarily liking her friend’s decision making, as the guy had tried to shake Sora down three different times for her dad’s inherited gambling debts. Not to mention Shiki’s warnings about him. Also, he didn’t come across as someone who liked dating. Yuna’s suspicions drowned in demanding patrons, and by the time Touma tapped her on the shoulder, saying “Breaktime.” She had almost forgotten about her meeting with the info broker. Yuna stepped outside, shrugging off the patrons demands, and looked at Izaya, who’d been sitting by the back entrance, right where Yuna used to take her smoke breaks before she’d quit. He tipped himself off of the guardrail, smiling at her in a way that wasn’t as polite as it was mocking. 

“Tell me, Yuna, do you know what kind of strange things lurk in this city?”

“Strange people, definitely.” She shrugged. “You included.”

“Yes, yes. But I’m talking more about those things that aren’t quite explainable without the existence of magic, of myth.”

“Like?” She frowned. 

“Like the headless rider? Or cursed objects, or the way things seem to forwarn you of things to come.” He paused. “Or perhaps, people who find themselves unable to feel regular human emotions, despite having all the opportunity to explore it.” 

She shifted uncomfortably. “There’s nothing about me that’s supernatural.”

“You sure? Sure you’re not some attachment spirit, wandering life trying to find meaning in human emotions?” 

Yuna glowered at him. “Positive. What’s this about? Are you messing with me?”

“Not at all. I think there’s more to you than people might know. They say you don’t feel pain.”

“I have CIPA. That’s not exactly supernatural. It’s a chemical imbalance.”

“Do you think it’s connected?”

“No. Probably not.” She watched as he paced, frowning at every step he took, noting that he was getting closer every time he passed her. “You’re interested in knowing more about me, right?”

“I...suppose.” She returned to her suspicious stance, arms crossed and chin up. “My brother says you apparently love all people. That’s a strong word to use for someone interested in psychology.”

“People...all have their own methods and habits. They all react differently to extreme situations but are for the most part, completely predictable. That’s what makes them fun! Because you can always see them put in a situation and respond in a way that can be observed as the same over and over again. It’s fascinating. And then, sometimes they’ll surprise you--but it still obeys the laws of human behavior. I love the way the act, the way they can make things interesting.”

“Is that how you would define love, then? Someone making your life interesting?”

“I suppose. I love them because they interest me. Is it that hard?”

“I think it’s too broad.” She frowned. “Your views don’t help me at all.”

“No?” He tipped his head, just a foot away from her, suddenly almost looking insulted. “Well that’s just not fair. You didn’t even give me a chance.”

“I don’t see how someone who loves everyone can really tell the difference between neutrality, or hate, and love. It doesn’t help me at all.” She started to walk back inside. 

“Hold on, not everyone. Shizuo Heiwajima is a bastard. Hate him. Not that he’s hardly human, anyway.”

“Um, he’s definitely not supernatural.” She laughed at him, and realized that was a mistake when he glared at her. “I just mean--he’s weird, right, but he’s not exactly a golem or something.”

“Regardless, I hate him. I can differentiate it. All I know, is as long as I’ve been alive, I’ve loved humans. All of them. Never met one I don’t feel like I love.” 

She tipped her head. Maybe he was being honest. Maybe he had the opposite problem she did. “So how can you help me? What about me interests you?”

“Why do you keep searching? If you didn’t find it by now, you’re probably not going to, right?”

She shifted onto her other foot. “I guess I don’t believe that.”

“Then maybe the tenacity is what makes you interesting. And you’ll occupy me for a while. That’s all.”

“Like entertainment?” She raised an eye. 

“Precisely.” 

“So you’re a sociopath. You enjoy playing with people’s lives. Bending them to your own will. You play god for fun.”

“That’s a pretty good set of assumptions about me.” He smirked at her. 

“But they’re only assumptions?” She tried, cautious. 

He looked her up and down again. “Nope, they’re pretty accurate.”

“Well, I guess I’m good enough at reading people. We’ll have to see just how accurate I am.”

“You got it pretty good this time.” Izaya said. “Maybe we should meet up more often, but I think that’s enough for now.”

She frowned. “Let me get you my cell.” Yuna reached for some paper, but he waved a hand. 

“No big, I have it already.” 

She glared at him, covering it with a nod. “I see.”

“Then I’ll--” He paused, his smile fading as the door behind her opened. 

“Hey, what’re you doing out here, Izaya? Thought I told you to get the hell out of town.” Yuna backed away as Shizuo stepped out of the bar, glancing at her. “You’re the bartender. Get inside. He’s dangerous.”

“I’ve got it.” She tried. “You don’t have to protect me.”

“I’m not.” He insisted, growing angrier by the second. “This bastard needs to get out of Ikebukuro before I grind his bones to dust.” 

Sora popped up behind him, and sighed loudly. “Yuna, what--” 

Yuna acted now, pushing Sora in the bar, just in time to watch Shizuo start chasing Izaya down the street. “Let’s go.”

“But he’s my date!!”

“He’s not any safer than my stalker.” She frowned at her. 


	3. Chapter 3

Yuna’s nightmare brought up the long buried memory of her brother’s funeral. When Ryoka called her over to the casket, she didn’t cry, didn’t even really feel sad. Sometimes she hoped it was due to her young age that she looked up at Ryoka and asked how long they had to be at the funeral home, as if it was a boring chore. As if her brother wasn’t lying dead in front of her. Ryoka looked at her, sympathetic, telling her it was an all day thing. 

The gentle understanding was interrupted by the doors slamming open, Yuna only jumping at the loud noise, annoyance filling Ryoka’s features as he approached the two visitors. 

“Get out.” 

“That’s our son!!” The man snapped. 

“You have no sons. You told us that a couple years ago, right?” The woman breathed his name, and he glared at her. “You act like you’re innocent. You changed the locks when we told you we needed you.”

“You...where’s my daughter? Or did you kill her too?” Their mother hissed. 

“I didn’t kill anyone.” Ryoka snapped, teeth gritted. Yuna stepped next to him, staring at her parents. She’d not seen them in four years.

“S-so…this is how my little girl looks now…” The woman’s tears flowed anew.   
Ryoka glowered at them. “You don’t deserve her.” 

Their father spoke again. “Let us see our son. He’s dead.”

“We should take Yuna back. You won’t be able to raise her on your own.”

“Like hell I won’t. She’s staying with me.” He growled, stepping away. “Go pay your respects to someone who hated you, I guess.” Their mother looked at Yuna, gasping as she grabbed her arm. Ryoka turned back to her. “What?”

“She’s hurt!! You let her get hurt!!”

“She was born with CIPA. She doesn’t feel pain. It’s not that much damage.”

“How dare you!!”

Yuna awoke, shaking the dream off and looking at the clock. It was only seven in the morning, so she got up for a glass of water and went back to bed. By the time the sun was up, Yuna had been woken up every ten minutes or so by her text tone going off. She opened them, annoyed. 

All of them from a number she didn’t recognize, but had a good idea as to who it was.

[Take a look Outside.]

[Did you get that?]

[I’m still out here.] 

[You aren’t even checking these, are you?]

She frowned, opening the curtain, only half surprised to see Izaya seated outside her apartment complex. He lit up when he saw her in the window, but it looked fake to her. She pulled on her jeans and boots, stepping out into the crisp morning air. “What’re you doing here?”

“I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“I was sleeping. You don’t sleep?” She grumbled. “Thought you weren’t supposed to be in Ikebukuro.”

“Shizu-chan let it slide.” He paused. “Well, let me slide.” 

She didn’t even question it. Yuna had about half an inkling of patience with so little sleep. “I’m going inside.”

He called out to her, but laughed as she slammed the door in his face. “I’ll be waiting!”

“You do that.” She sighed, promptly going back to bed. 

By the time she opened the curtains after getting some more sleep, Izaya was still sitting there, laughing at Niki Arasa about something. Niki looked furious. He glanced up and waved at her, and she waved back without thinking, annoying herself. Yuna stepped into the hall, noting that Sora seemed to be at the store, judging by a note on her door. Yuna’s two seperate stalkers argued on the street--though Izaya seemed less than argumentative. She grabbed her mail and approached them. “You guys good?” 

“Niki was just telling me how close you two are.”

“I know so much!”

Yuna’s groan was trapped in her throat. “What did you tell him?”

“You set an alarm for 10 am every morning but never wake up to it! You don’t make a lot of friends and still have the same ones you had in high school. We dated but you broke up with me because you weren’t getting anything out of it. You’ve lived here for five years after moving out of your brothers house, and since then you’ve been much happier. You like caramel and steak and italian foods!”

“Please make her stop.” Izaya looked a bit tired. Good.

“Wish it was that easy.” She shrugged. “Just ignore her.” She started back toward the apartment. 

“It’s scalding out here!” Izaya whined, making a big show of wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Take off your coat.”

“Niki, is this apartment complex air conditioned?”

“Yeah! Yuna doesn’t like hot weather, she wouldn’t live anywhere else.”

“Excellent. Wouldn’t want her to have to die from heat stroke, like me.” His dramatization made Yuna roll her eyes. 

“You’re expecting me to invite you inside?”

“No!! I would never invade your privacy like that!!” He feigned appallment. Yuna didn’t humor him. “...But, if you insist.” He stepped past her, walking up the stairs to the apartment. Niki tried to follow them both in, but Yuna locked the front door behind her. “So which one’s yours?”

“32.” She sighed. “What’re you doing hanging around here?”

He leaned by her door as she unlocked it. “Just wanted to visit.”

“How’d you find my place?”

He stepped in, looking around curiously. “My place is much bigger, but this is nice, I suppose.” He glanced at her. “Tracked your cell.”

“Why?”

“Well, we didn’t get to spend much time getting to know each other on your lunch, and I was bored.” He smiled at her, sitting down on her couch. “Niki told me something very interesting just now.”

“What’s that?”

“You have some unresolved issues with your parents, yes? You don’t ever mail them back, but they sure send you a lot of letters.”

“Forgot she goes through my mail.” Yuna sighed. “They send me fake guilt about sending me to live with my brothers, try to get me to come stay with them. They just want free tickets to the freakshow.” She shook her head. 

“So...that girl--you dated her in high school?”

“I did. She never let go.” They stared at each other, conversation fizzling. Izaya felt boredom nip at the corners of his mind, and he considered maybe he’d met the limit of her hospitality, since she didn’t start another conversation or anything. She spoke up finally. “You drink tea? coffee? Water?”

“I’m fine.”

“I just picked some tea leaves this morning. I can make you some. It’s not a bother.”

“You grow your own?” The question didn’t gain him anything, so why did he ask? Such a small thing to be curious about, and it caught him off guard. 

“I do. Don’t run out that way.” She smiled at him politely, stepping into the kitchen. 

“So you wear a men’s bracelet, right? Why’s that?”

“It was my dead brother’s.” She called back. 

“I wouldn’t expect those sentiments from someone who didn’t love him.”

She brought him a cup of tea. “I suppose it was more...he was a comfort. A constant. When he was gone, I liked to remember him. I like people--I just don’t feel attached to them in the same way someone would describe love.”

The door slammed open, and Sora burst in, walking past them. “I’m using your shower!”

“Sure.” Yuna sipped her tea as the bathroom door slammed. 

“Does she not have one of her own?”

“Mine has a tub.” Yuna chuckled a bit. 

“She seemed angry.”

“She did.”

“You don’t care?” He sneered. “She’s your friend.”

“Don’t play games with me, Izaya.”

He nodded, and they sat in near silence while he finished his tea, standing up once he did. “Guess I’ll go.”

“Sure.” Yuna shrugged. “Call next time.”

He laughed. “That’s no fun!” Izaya trotted out the door, sighing at his sudden, unexpected lapse in investigative skills. He still hadn’t gotten much more information on Yuna. Basics. Useless things. He couldn’t get under her skin with just the basics. He’d have to try harder next time they met. Something had distracted him this time. Izaya put it off as the tea smell and the heat. 

Sora sat down with Yuna as she dried her hair. “What was he doing here?”

“Beats me. He was outside this morning.”

“Oh, so he didn’t sneak in last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“He didn’t sleep over?”

“No.” Yuna frowned. “Why would he?”

Sora giggled, standing. “I’ll see you later!”

Yuna followed her to her door, holding it open. “What do you mean?” She repeated. 

“You’re hanging out with a new person. Maybe he’s the key!”

Yuna shut the door gently behind her. “What about you? How’d you get Shizuo Heiwajima to go on a date?”

“Well, he didn’t really think it was a date at first. We’ve just been hanging out as friends.” Sora shrugged. “But he’s cute.”

“He’s a brute.” Yuna frowned, arms crossed. 

“Yeah, well, he hates Izaya. Says he’s dangerous. Like we all think.”

“He’s the best lead I have right now.” Yuna shrugged. “Until that dies, I’m not stopping my interactions with him. Besides, I wanna know what he’s interested in me for.”

“Just be safe.” Sora shrugged. 

“You too.” She paused. “I’m just a plaything to Izaya.”

“What?”

“He plays with people. I’m aware of that. He’ll grow tired of me eventually. I’m not about to go and get attached.”

“That’s...not something you could help.”

“Can’t get attached if I can’t fall in love with him.” She shrugged. “It’s a good defense.”

“But...you’re looking for answers in him, right?”

She nodded, sitting down. “I am.”

“If you find those answers--and he drops you--”

“Which he will inevitably do.”

“...right, then you’ll be hurt. I don’t know if you could take it. You’ve never been hurt like that before.”

“There’s no way to know if I don’t try.” She shrugged. 

She paused, considering it. “Okay. So what do you like about him? Start with that.”

“I don’t get your meaning.”

She pouted. “Well like, do you think he’s attractive?”

“I wouldn’t say he’s handsome.” She laughed. “But he’s...different in a good way.”

“You’re making it really hard to giggle about this.”

“Fine. I guess I like the way he looks.”

“That’s the spirit!” She threw her hands in the air, laughing. “Now, tell me why he’s attractive. What do you like about him?”

“I dunno.” she shrugged. “Maybe his eyes? His face?”

“And about his personality?”

“He’s hard to read. I’ve known him for two days.” She laughed. “He’s manipulative. But definitely interesting.”

“And he’s interested in you!”

“Not in this way, I don’t think.” 

“_ This _way? Yuna, you sly dog!”

“That way, slip of the tongue!” She hissed. 

“You worded it like that for a reason!” She giggled.

“I didn’t say that for any reason.”

“You did too! It was subconscious!! I think you like him!”

“I think he’s a pain.”

“I think you’re feeling the emotion, just not processing it.” Sora spat, suddenly very serious. 

They both paused. Maybe she was right. Maybe Yuna was only incapable because she didn’t process it correctly. Maybe she was just broken, in her headspace. Maybe Ryoka was wrong, and this wasn’t really so hopeless.

Yuna spent a couple days at Sora’s, sleeping on her couch, trying to process her own feelings. Mikona and Fiona came over as well, sleeping on the floor, like when they were kids. 

“I think he’s crazy. Don’t stick your hypothetical dick in crazy.” Fiona tried.

“I dunno. Maybe they’re a good match.” Mikona shrugged. “A lot of people think Yuna’s crazy.”

“Yuna likes him. That’s not love, but it’s different than usual.” Sora tried. 

Yuna threw her hands in the air, landing them above her head, hanging off of the arm of the sofa. “This is so dumb. I don’t really like him that much. We’ve met twice. Barely even talked.”

“But you’re interested in him! You’re not really interested in anyone--you just kinda go through life like a traveller.”

“Don’t say so many words, Mikona. You sound too poetic.” Fiona giggled. 

Yuna’s phone buzzed, and she took a look at it. Izaya had sent her an email. “It’s him.” The girls crowded around her phone as she sat up.. “It’s been two days since we talked.” She mumbled. 

[Hey, let's get together this evening. I’ll meet you at the station.]

“Ooh!” Fiora gently started slapping Yuna’s shoulder. She brushed her off. 

“Evening...wonder what he has planned.” Mikona frowned at Yuna. 

“Scandal!!” Sora screeched. 

“Well you have to respond!” Fiona smiled. 

“Fine, fine.” Yuna shook her head. 

[Sure, I guess. What do you need?]

“Don’t sound so mean.” Mikona smiled at her. 

[You’ll see. Just trust me.]

Sora laughed. “Yeah, okay. Sure, weird stalker-man.”

[Fine.]

Yuna put her phone away. “Wish he would just be more clear.”

“Remember, he’s playing a game.” Sora nodded, face turning serious. “You gotta play it back. Keep your wits about you.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“What’re you gonna wear??” Fiona giggled. “We gotta get you a dress.”

“I’m going like this.” She grumbled. 

“No. You have to knock him off his feet!”

“Dress you up like a lady of the night.” Mikona mumbled. 

Fiona frowned at her. “I don’t think that phrase means what you think it does.”

“It would put him on edge.” Sora smiled. “If you get yourself all pretty his head’ll be on that.”

“I’ve talked to him twice.” Yuna said slowly. “I’m not dressing up.”

“No fun!” Sora sighed.


End file.
